


When You Hit a Wall...Just Kick It In

by lost_decade



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Complicated Relationships, M/M, Seduction, i don't think I've ever written nico like this before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_decade/pseuds/lost_decade
Summary: Nico could take being beaten by Lewis, even if at times he’d felt as though it would crush him. What he couldn’t deal with was this – this nothingness, silence – the way Lewis looked through him as though he was a stranger.





	When You Hit a Wall...Just Kick It In

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally set in Melbourne and was supposed to be done before the first race of the season (hahahaha I'm bad at giving myself deadlines). Now it's set loosely over the Monaco GP weekend.
> 
> Title is taken from a Sam Shepard quote.

“He needs this,” Toto was saying. “That’s the only reason. No, listen it’s not like that - I think the winter was tougher than any of us thought. It calms him down. Can you just trust me on this…” Toto looked up, seemingly only just realising where he was and that standing a stone’s throw from the media pen was perhaps not the best place to be having this particular conversation. He rubbed a hand over his face, squinting against the glare of the low afternoon sun and lowering his voice enough that Nico lost the thread of the conversation. “Just the way he is,” he caught before Toto ended the call, “better for the team in the long run.”

Nico looked around for the rest of the RTL crew and spotted them interviewing Bottas. His heart went out to the Finn for a moment as he wondered whether his replacement knew quite what he was up against and how quickly the camaraderie would fade the second he presented a real threat. It filled him with a heart-clenching sense of unease and reminded him - and yes, astonishingly he had somehow forgotten in the intervening year and a bit - just how awful it could be at Mercedes.

The weekend wasn’t going entirely well, aside from the upcoming lap of the track that Georg had arranged with his dad, there was still a niggling annoyance hanging over from Nico’s last appearance at a race, an altogether Lewis Hamilton shaped annoyance. Nico wasn’t in the habit of being ignored by Lewis. That wasn’t to say it hadn’t been a common feature of their time as teammates, however then he’d known how to remedy the situation and they could do their talking on the track rather than face to face. Now that wasn’t an option and he’d just have to find other ways to interact and get through to Lewis, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to stand for being brushed aside in front of his colleagues at RTL the way Lewis had blanked him earlier in the season in China. There were other ways to get Lewis’ attention though, and Nico wasn’t above exploring them.  

*

“Wow, her hair is so dark,” Sebastian handed the phone back across the table to Nico, who couldn’t resist a quick, fond glance at the screen before locking it and slipping it back into his pocket.

“Totally different from Alaïa, but then Vivi had really dark hair when she was a baby too so I guess that’s where Naila gets it from.”

“They grow so fast,” Seb seemed to drift off for a moment, glancing out across the opulent bar of the Fairmont thinking about his own daughters or possibly about qualifying tomorrow.

This would probably be easier if Sebastian was drunk, but still Nico didn’t expect that it would be too much of a challenge. He leaned forward a little, resting his chin on his hand and studying his fellow German carefully, ruminating on how much more general chit-chat they were going to sit through and whether now was too soon or not.

“I’m going to the bar, you want another?” Nico asked, gesturing at the sparkling water that his fellow German had been slowly, unenthusiastically sipping on. An unnecessary move given it was table service, but he wanted to give Sebastian a moment alone to reflect on the last half hour’s flirting they'd pursued. He got the feeling that in this particular area Sebastian may not have the sharpest perception and it was tiresome having to spell out exactly what you wanted, took some of the thrill away.

Nico made a show of walking over to the bar, aware of how the spring sunshine had lightened his hair a little, the slight hint of a tan on his forearms where he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves. All the frustrated angst that had lined his forehead seemingly for years had left him – or rather it was no longer visible. It didn’t mean the aching regrets had disappeared, he’d just got better at managing them with the space of a year and a new life.

Yet as his dad had sternly warned him, you never truly leave it behind. Maybe that’s why he’d been drawn back into the paddock, swept up by the current again – unable to affect any of the on-track outcomes yeah for sure, but off it – that was a whole different ballpark.

He let himself flirt a little with the attractive brunette serving behind the bar, leaning forward with a quick glance over his shoulder, which told him that yes, Seb was watching, eyes trained on Nico’s ass, a work of art in sculpted white jeans.

This was not going to be challenging at all.

*

“Fuck, too much, nghh,”Sebastian protested as Nico stroked his fingertips ever so gently over his balls at the same time as swirling his tongue around the head of Seb’s softening cock, teasingly cleaning away the last traces of his come. Nico smiled, licking his lips before swiping his tongue over the slit, Seb’s hips arching off the bed as he clutched at Nico’s shoulder desperately.

“Messy boy,” Nico said with a smile, crawling up over Sebastian’s body to lick into his mouth, Sebastian sucking the taste of his own come greedily from Nico's tongue.

“How did you know?” Sebastian asked a little later on, after he’d buried two fingers in Nico’s ass and sucked him off so expertly that Nico had to wonder who else he’d been sleeping with and whether those rumours about him and Kimi held any truth after all.

Sebastian cuddled closer to him, looking up openly into Nico’s eyes as he waited for an answer to a question that Nico hadn’t figured out.

“Know what?”

“That I’ve wanted this. Since I was at Red Bull actually and you were first at Mercedes. I used to jerk off over it you know,” he confessed, “the thought of you and Michael sharing me.”

Nico craned his head to study Sebastian a little closer, surprised and confused by the revelation until he saw how open Sebastian’s face was, still hazy enough from sex that it clearly hadn’t occurred to him what a terrible idea this was for him.

“You never said anything.”

“No, no – but then neither did you. I thought...” Seb smiled somewhat bashfully, “hoped...back in Abu Dhabi after you won, that moment we had. I hoped it might lead to something else, but I know how it is after you get your first win, everyone wants a piece of you.”

Fuck. Oh fuck. This was...interesting. Nico couldn’t actually remember any moment with Seb, beyond him being especially nice in the post-race press conference. What moment? He wasn’t sure how to tell Sebastian that this had absolutely nothing to do with him, that he merely happened to be one of Lewis’ rivals and that as such he was fair game. It was supposed to just be a nice fuck, because sex is nice and everyone should be having more of it but also because it would irritate the hell out of Lewis. Nico hadn’t counted on Sebastian revealing some decade old crush on him and he half wondered whether Seb was trying to play him at his own game here because surely, surely he would’ve noticed this at some point? Nico prided himself on instinct and perception, being able to read situations. He exhaled slowly, tipping his head back onto the pillow, glad that with Seb cuddled against his chest the German couldn’t see his face.

He decided to let him down gently, to explain that this was all very enjoyable but that it was nothing more than just a nice interlude to the weekend, yet as he made a start the image of Lewis from back in China re-entered his mind, arms crossed stubbornly as he looked through Nico as if he wasn’t even there. Instinctively he knew that if the situation was reversed Lewis would take it right down to the wire. Lewis would never brake first.

“A while,” he lied, running his hand over Sebastian's chest and pressing a kiss to his hair.

“Wait for me after the press conference tomorrow,” Nico said when he’d put his clothes back on.

“How do you know I'll be part of it?”

“I'm counting on it.”

*

“It felt so strange seeing you out there again,” Toto said, ruffling Nico's hair affectionately. He stepped back out of the hug but still remained close enough that Nico could feel the warmth of his body. “How did it feel?”

“Like home,” Nico confessed, surprising himself a little with the admission. It was a sentimental truth, the first time in the 18 months since his retirement that he'd honestly felt the desire to get back in the car and actually go the full race distance. It was perhaps unsurprising, the instinct that kicked in as soon as he was strapped into the cockpit, the echo of all those races won and lost, along with other things relinquished that he preferred not to acknowledge.

Nico wondered privately how much Toto’s purpose had shifted, if he was still needed by both sides of the garage in the same way. It seemed unlikely now, the glow of adoration adorning Valtteri’s face whenever he was in close proximity to Emilia seeming to hold no room for anything quite so pedestrian and wasteful as pining for a teammate. There must be some weakness though, there always was. He had some idea of what it might be, although it could wait until the matter of Toto was out of the way with.

“There are some things I miss more than others, of course,” Nico offered with a coquettish tilt of his head, looking up at the Austrian through slumberous eyes that were more a product of _kept awake by screaming baby_ than from a wild night of fucking. Still, Toto didn't need to know that and the languid, heavy-lidded sweep of his lashes had a similar effect.

Toto’s eyes widened in surprise for a second as his brain caught up with Nico's intended meaning, the younger man choosing the opportune moment when a couple of mechanics squeezed by them lugging a pile of tire blankets, to step into Toto’s personal space, resting a hand lightly on the Austrian's forearm and licking at his lips ever so quickly, the motion enough to draw Toto’s gaze. Nico could feel his body tense, muscles tightening beneath his fingers. It wasn't as though anything they'd ever done had been more than just blowing off steam but that's not to say that Nico hadn't always held an intense amount of enjoyment for those moments. There was something about being with someone so much physically bigger, stronger, that had always set Nico's arousal spiking a notch higher than with most other lovers - the sense of Toto’s weight on him so consuming.  He shuddered at the ghost-echo of Toto’s large hands clasped tight around his throat, the memory of being full up with the Austrian’s dick, all the while knowing it had been inside Lewis oh so recently. Did Toto miss him too, he asked himself - was having a sulky champion to reassure but no counterpart as dissatisfying as it had appeared from the earlier phone call Nico had overheard. Yes, almost certainly, he concluded, if the soft expression on Toto’s face and the heat that flickered across his eyes was anything to go by.

“There are some things I miss about you, too,” Toto murmured low into Nico's ear in a way that was entirely for dramatic effect - unnecessary what with the noise going on around them, drills whirring harshly and music pumping out from the garages - almost as if Toto thought that any seduction taking place here was of his own doing, rather than part of Nico's predetermined scheme.

“Show me?” Nico questioned, his hand sliding down over Toto’s rolled up shirt-sleeves to stroke the soft skin at the inside of his wrist before linking their fingers together, there in the bright sunlight streaming into the Mercedes garage surrounded by people they should probably have shown some discretion in the presence of, and leading Toto towards one of the private rooms at the back of the garage.

*

“You don't need to be stressed,” Nico said, feeling the tension thrumming through Valtteri’s body, his pulse hammering beneath Nico's fingers as they stroked over the soft, pale skin of his neck.

“It's not that,” the Finn replied. “It's just I haven't…” he shrugged “with another driver.”

His forehead was creased with confusion at being unexpectedly faced with Nico at his hotel room door and once again Nico felt almost sorry for dragging him into this. Almost. It wasn't as though the Finn wouldn't be getting an incredible orgasm out of it. It had become apparent fairly quickly that Nico hadn't just dropped by to give him some tips on setting up the car for a circuit he'd so magnificently claimed as his own.

To his credit, Valtteri met Nico's eyes calmly, not backing away even though Nico sensed he may have wanted to.

“It's alright,” Nico reassured, pressing his lips to Valtteri’s in a surprisingly gentle kiss. “It happens more than you might have thought. Or it used to back in the day.” He steered them both over to the bed in the centre of Valtteri’s grand, vaguely nautical-themed hotel room, guiding the younger man to sit at the edge of the bed, Nico's reaching for Valtteri’s hand and placing it on his belt buckle, as if Valtteri really had any choice at all in whether he was going to suck Nico's cock. Only once or twice had anyone ever turned him down.

As predicted, Valtteri made quick work of undoing Nico's belt, sliding down his jeans and boxers to free his cock, grasping Nico's arse checks to pull him closer as he breathed in his arousal in a manner that told Nico this was definitely not the first time he'd done this.

There was a long-held hunch that Nico decided to play with a little - he knew how it was to have idols after all.

“I remember my first time with another driver,” Nico began, conversationally as Valtteri wrapped his lips around the thickness of his cock, taking him in with an ease that made Nico shiver, the heat and slide of his tongue causing Nico's thoughts to fly away for a moment, caught up in sensation. He'd settled his hands on Valtteri’s strong shoulders, grip tightening momentarily as he fucked into the wet heat of the younger man's mouth.

“I was so nervous,” he continued, trying to suppress a moan, settling in to the swirl and glide of Valtteri’s tongue, the tension coiling up inside him only half to do with Valtteri’s thorough, measured blowjob - the thrill heightened by the ease of which people always fell so willingly into doing exactly what Nico wanted them to do.

Valtteri pulled back for a moment, looking up expectantly, cheeks coloured slightly pink - as flustered as Nico had ever seen him. He was quite pretty really, Nico decided. No Lewis, obviously, but then no one was.

“Mika really put me at ease,” Nico continued, trying not to smile too much as Valtteri’s eyes widened. “He knows how to fuck too.” He cupped Valtteri’s face with one hand, brushing his thumb across the Finn’s saliva-slick lips before pressing it into Valtteri’s mouth, pleased when the younger man sucked on it almost without thinking.

“And he’s good with his mouth, so good. You can only imagine.”

Valtteri closed his eyes as if this was too much. How often, Nico wondered, breathing in sharply as the sensitive head of his cock grazed against the faintest stubble of Valtteri’s cheek, how often had teenage Valtteri got himself off to pictures of his idol, sticky pages of the same magazines he'd splashed his come over time after time? Probably a similar amount of times that Nico had, the difference being that he had the real thing sitting downstairs in his dad's study. It was a fond memory, those couple of times with Mika back in his late teens, before Lewis decided to get all self-righteous and start griping on about monogamy. Nico grasped his cock in his hand, pressing it to Valtteri’s lips and smearing precome over them. “I think I want to fuck you now,” he said, decisively.

*

“You look beautiful,” Nico complimented, clasping Vivian’s hands and drawing her close for a kiss, almost reluctant to leave and head out to the party, the buzzing throng of Monaco at the end of a race weekend as frenetic as ever.

Nico could feel the life in the atmosphere, pleasant memories of his wins in the principality stirred up in his mind. He accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, settling back on the pristine white sofa style seating on the deck of the yacht, sipping slowly as he surveyed the scene. Vivian was deep in conversation with Susie Wolff, Toto nowhere to be seen – which wasn’t really that surprising given the tricky weekend the team had endured. Across the deck Nico could see Lewis chatting to some of the team personnel, either oblivious to Nico’s presence or pretending to be. Nico’s gaze settled on the Brit, surroundings seeming to fall away. He still held the ability to take Nico’s breath away, to set his nerves on edge, all while stirring an ache within him, a dull pain that he supposed was love. Nico could take being beaten by Lewis, even if at times he’d felt as though it would crush him. What he couldn’t deal with was this – this nothingness, silence – the way Lewis looked through him as though he was a stranger. He watched as Lewis fiddled with his sunglasses, hooking and unhooking them into the neck of his t-shirt, hands twitchy – a nervous habit he never used to exhibit when they were young – until his view was obscured by someone walking in front of him. He was dimly aware of someone saying hi, looking up into expectant blue eyes.

“I was looking for you,” Sebastian said, handing Nico another glass of champagne and moving to sit at his side. Surely this was some fortuitous twist of fate, a perfection that Nico half wished he’d actually engineered himself.

“You’re brave, stepping into rival territory,” Nico commented lightly, letting his thigh press close against Sebastian’s. “This is how rumours start,” he raised his eyebrows.

“You think anyone would believe I’m planning a move to Mercedes, I doubt it, don’t you?”

“People like to believe all kinds of things,” Nico replied knowingly, draping an arm around Sebastian’s shoulder, ruffling his hair as if they were old friends, which Nico couldn’t ever recall them being. At that moment Vivian looked up, rolling her eyes at the scene and following Nico’s eyeline to where Lewis was standing.

“It was good to see you up there on the podium today,” Nico mused, shifting to look into Sebastian’s eyes, soft with affection and the same shade as the water lapping gently against the side of the yacht. The sun had not long set, the party only just getting started and although Nico didn’t want to be leaving at the end of the night with anyone other than Vivian, it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun in the meantime. He hoped Sebastian wasn’t too into this, things tended to get messy where there were feelings involved. He drifted in and out of their conversation, eyes flitting between Vivian and Lewis before settling back on Seb, whose hand had boldly crept onto Nico’s knee in full view of everyone. Nico couldn’t deny it felt nice, there was an immense satisfaction to be gained from being wanted. He often lamented the fact of it not being enough, teetering on the edge of almost but not quite.

He decided to push it just a little, one hand reaching to clasp fingers with Sebastian, while the other played through the short hair at the nape of his neck, just as Lewis glanced over, scowling sharply at Nico before turning his back.

“We should do something before Canada,” Sebastian was saying, leaning his head against Nico’s shoulder, “meet up.”

Hopefully “meet up” meant fuck in a hotel room, rather than dinner and a movie, although Nico wasn’t really up for asking that question at the moment. He hummed thoughtfully, replying with a noncommittal “the other night was really nice,” having another quick glance around before subtly disentangling their hands and running the length of his palm over Sebastian’s crotch, lest the Ferrari driver was getting the wrong idea about what they were doing and was planning to buy him flowers instead of lube. Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath was rather a pleasant little power trip and, oh fuck it, Nico thought, why the hell not.

“Why wait any longer than we have to. Follow me in a couple of minutes?” Nico whispered, only half a question, getting up with a friendly pat to Sebastian’s arm and walking off in the direction of the bathroom, well aware that Seb wasn’t the only driver watching him.   

*

“What are you doing?” Lewis asked, standing imposing in the doorway of Nico’s apartment, fury burning in his eyes. Nico smiled serenely at him, his pale shorts and linen shirt giving him an air of someone who’d just wandered in from the beach, utterly relaxed in comparison with his former teammate.

“I was just making some coffee,” he gestured behind himself into the apartment, the pleasing scent of Arabica beans wafting in from the kitchen.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve, Nico. Shit, man, I thought we were beyond this mind games bullshit, I thought…” Lewis grabbed at the front of Nico’s shirt, his hand a tight fist as he drew Nico closer to him, trying to stare him down, which was not that effective given the fraction in height that Nico had on him. For one thrilling moment, Nico thought that Lewis might kiss him, the proximity of their bodies bringing the old longing to life again. The one thing that really meant something. Instead, Lewis shoved him back a little, letting go and closing the door, walking through into Nico’s kitchen without turning to see if he was being followed.

“Where’s Vivian?” Lewis asked, the apartment silent enough to indicate the children weren’t present.

“Out with her mum and the girls,” Nico replied, lifting the coffee pot off the stove and pouring out a couple of cups, privately hoping he wouldn’t be attending the burns unit later that afternoon - with the look on Lewis’ face it wasn’t altogether out of the question. He could think of at least one other occasion where Lewis had thrown a drink in his face in the past, albeit not scalding coffee.

“Does she know you’ve been fucking half of Monaco this weekend?” Lewis asked, moving out of the way so that Nico could retrieve the milk from the fridge. The tone of his voice did something to Nico, like kerosene poured onto a dwindling flame, re-igniting it, it was the sound of hurt, a sadness that could only mean one thing.

“We have no secrets from each other,” Nico leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Why do you care, anyway? We’re over aren’t we, I can fuck whoever I want. How did you even find out?”

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. “How did I find out? Really, Nico. I found out because you made damn sure I was going to find out. Toto’s got your fucking paddock pass in his pocket, Seb’s trying to hold your hand whenever I turn around, Verstappen’s crying in the men’s room at the after-party. And I don’t even want to know what you did with Valtteri, the guy can’t even look at me without blushing. You didn’t need to get him involved, man.”

“Verstappen wasn’t me,” Nico said. “That’s probably a result of who Ricciardo decided to celebrate his win with – I noticed Jean-Éric’s in town. Not that I blame Daniel,” he smiled fondly, thinking back to Hong-Kong and the unexpected pleasure of where the night had led after the Hugo Boss event that night, how beautiful Jean-Éric had looked riding his cock.

Lewis took a step closer to him, trapping Nico against the counter and taking his head firmly in his hands, their faces close as Lewis looked into his eyes. “What are you doing this for?” he asked, genuinely curious rather than just angry. Nico couldn’t help but flinch a little, the feel of Lewis’ hands on his skin after so long enough to short circuit all his rational thought processes.

“I won’t have you ignoring me,” Nico said, tilting his head slightly and parting his lips in invitation, shivering a little at the way Lewis’ eyes followed the motion. “In the paddock, if I’m there with the media, you don’t just get to walk off and not speak to me. It’s humiliating.”

“Just trying to get on with my life, man.”

_You’re my whole life_ \- Nico remembered Lewis once saying. They’d probably been very young then, he couldn’t quite place the occasion.

“You really want that,” Lewis continued, “you want me to put my arm around you and talk about when we were fifteen and I sucked you off in some hotel room? You want me to tell everyone how we did everything together, how happy we were and how it all got so fucked that all I want is to live my life and I can’t because you’re there. You’re always fucking there, in my head, in my garage. Why can’t you just let it go?”

Nico waited, letting the frustration pour out of him, his grasp on Nico loosening until it was more of a delicate hold than an aggressive grip. “You know why,” Nico said softly, “you know.”

Lewis’ fingers slid back into his hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he let Nico kiss him, the German slipping his hands up beneath Lewis’ t-shirt in search of skin. Lewis groaned into his mouth, Nico smiling into the kiss when he slipped his thigh between Lewis’ legs to find him hard.

It just never felt this right with anyone else. Lewis knew it as much as Nico did.  

“I know you’re still fucking Toto,” Nico threw at him, nipping at Lewis’ lip gently, pausing to rid him of his t-shirt so he could run his hands over all that toned, tattooed muscle. Lewis regarded him levelly. “Well, he’s better looking than Ron.”

“You didn’t…”

“No, course I didn’t. Back then I never would’ve with anyone else - unlike you, obviously.”

“Always so idealistic, Lewis. It never would have worked any other way.”

“It didn’t work that way either.”

You’re here, aren’t you - Nico thought. He dipped his fingers below the waistband of Lewis’ jeans, teasingly rubbing at the top of his arsecrack. “You’re here now,” he murmured as Lewis’ teeth grazed over his neck, biting down hard before soothing over the marred skin with a swipe of his tongue.

“Did you fuck Valtteri?” Lewis asked, reaching between their bodies to squeeze Nico’s dick almost painfully in a surprisingly obvious display of just how much Nico’s antics seemed to have got to him.

“Did _you_ fuck Jenson?” Nico grit out.

“That was years ago - one time, Nico, once. I can’t believe you’re still pissed about it.”

“I'm not, you surprised me with it, that’s all. And yes, I did. You’d be amazed how vocal he is when he’s getting his ass tongued open, you wouldn’t beli---ah, fuck.” Lewis bit down on his shoulder hard enough that Nico was glad there was some bruise cream in the first aid kit.

“God, I hate you,” Lewis stepped back, ripping Nico’s shirt open, buttons falling loose and bouncing onto the tiled floor. Nico shivered, relishing just how untrue he knew those words were, he felt almost light-headed, more turned on than he could remember being since possibly the last time he slept with Lewis. “Show me how much,” he challenged, letting the shirt slip to the floor, peeling off the rest of his clothes slowly just to see the rationality and desire fighting in Lewis’ eyes.

“You don’t need to go to Toto,” Nico whispered hoarsely, lying back on the same table his kids ate breakfast at, arching his back as Lewis’ fingers roughly stretched him open.

“Jealous?”

Nico looked away, unwilling to allow himself to be undone any further. “I think Sebastian might have feelings for me, if that helps you any,” he said.

Lewis frowned. “Why would that help me?”

“Your season isn’t going brilliantly. I just thought you might like some information on your rivals.”

“Wow, you really are something,” Lewis sounded half pissed off and half in awe; it left Nico feeling vulnerable for a second. He winced a little as the head of Lewis’ cock pressed against his hole, tensing involuntarily.

“That’s why you love me,” he groaned out, wrapping his legs around Lewis’ waist and sinking into the sensation of being filled, of it being Lewis.

“Yeah,” Lewis grit out, biting his lip as his eyes fluttered closed. The word could’ve been a throwaway utterance at the pleasure of having Nico’s arse squeezing tight around his dick, it could’ve been nothing, but Nico would take it he decided, pulling Lewis down to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> The Toto and Valtteri sections could be way longer and have more depth, but I struggled with them enough that in the end I was just done with the thing. Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
